Anthony Iannacci

  • Martino Coppes

    Martino Coppes creates evocative, landscapelike images by making peculiar assemblages out of discarded bits of white plastic and then carefully photographing them. Suggesting the aftermath of a natural or atomic disaster, these strangely lit pseudo-landscapes, which often incorporate tiny figures, are both synthetic and organic, simultaneously conveying a sense of stasis and continuous, subtle metamorphosis.

    Although his photographs are strangely seductive, Coppes doesn’t look for beauty in the bits of discarded plastic he uses; rather, he seems primarily concerned with finding out how completely

  • Jean-Frédéric Schnyder

    Jean-Frédéric Schnyder’s recent exhibition “I pittori somo cani” (Painters are dogs) included over one hundred, identically sized paintings in an array of styles, exploring seemingly exhausted genres: landscape, still life, portraiture, and abstraction. Schnyder arranged all his paintings, which he produced between 1983 and 1995, on a single wall in orderly, horizontal bands, creating a patchwork of miscellaneous styles and themes. On the gallery floor he placed a work entitled Hudel (Rag, 1983–), a carpet-like expanse formed out of used, meticulously-stitched-together painting rags. An ongoing

  • Richard Wilson

    In this recent exhibition Richard Wilson chose to present only two works. Entitled Corner and Cutting Corners (both 1995), these were objects that he had dramatically altered and then wedged into corners of the gallery’s two rooms, leaving much of the space empty. Corner, installed in the larger room, was created by cutting off a triangular section of an Italian version of a Fußball table along the line of an imaginary corner kick, while Cutting Corners consisted of two metal file cabinets that had been cut up and reassembled—a slice having been removed from one and added to the other—so that

  • Not Vital

    With work that is simultaneously abstract and representational, mature and childlike, Not Vital mines the depths of our collective unconscious. Though initially his most recent pieces might seem to sit squarely within the Minimalist tradition, they have a personal, often sexual inflection. In his most recent exhibition it became clear that for Vital the process of making art is governed by the search for a primary, universal level of experience and identity. Upon entering the gallery we were presented with the artist’s name in 14 different languages—from Arabic to Wallachian—painted on the wall.

  • Umberto Cavenago

    For years Umberto Cavenago has been imitating the mechanical and the industrial with his galvanized-steel, Minimalist forms on wheels. In this way, Cavenago creates artwork that is uncomfortable, unstable, and functionless in its surroundings.

    For this current exhibition that shares its title, “A prova di scemo” (Fool’s proof) with the body of work presented here, Cavenago designed and produced 13 pairs of solid cor-ten (corrosion resistance-tensile strength) steel simulacra of roller skates. In addition to these finished objects, the exhibition included prototypes for the skates in terra-cotta

  • Marco Gastini

    Marco Gastini’s works reflect the kind of fascination with nontraditional materials that has become synonymous with arte povera—the Italian art of his generation. Such a statement is meaningless, however, unless the question of why those materials became signifiers for an entire generation is considered. In contrast to postwar American artists who constructed a language of freedom through an innovative use of traditional materials, many Italian artists—both those who were part of arte povera and those more indirectly influenced by it—adopted “poor” materials in order to free themselves from the

  • Chiara Dynys

    For nearly a decade Chiara Dynys has been constructing framelike, geometric forms that open out from the wall in a kind of failed trompe l’oeil. What might initially read as an exercise in the perfection of an inherited Minimalist grammar is actually an attempt to erase distinctions between different materials such as marble, “marmorino” (its painted equivalent), and wax combined with marble dust. Unlike that of her Minimalist forefathers, Dynys’ work aggressively attempts to retain and express a visual tradition through both history and place. Dynys claims this notion of place not only through

  • Mario Airò/Christian Philipp Müller

    For this exhibition both Mario Airò, and Christian Philipp Müller appropriated modes of architecture that speak directly to notions of perfection. While Airò, chose to represent the monastic living quarters of the nearby Certosa di Pavia, located just south of Milan, in the gallery, Müller’s activity was based on this city’s wholesale showrooms, but the two distinctly different installations worked together to create a discourse that quickly moved beyond the obvious dichotomies to attempt to analyze the gallery’s role in conferring both spiritual and monetary value.

    Both Airò and Muller manipulated

  • Luca Vitone

    In the summer of 1993, Luca Vitone acquired ad space in various art magazines to create a work entitled Il Luogo dell’ Arte (The place of art, 1991-92). These simply designed ads consisted of Vitone’s name followed by the title of his project, and a text that read: “The floor plan 1:10 shows the space of an art gallery. Art is a place, the gallery measures its value,” and a rather prestigious, international list of galleries. Vitone then collected the floor plans of the galleries listed and produced drawings of each of the spaces to scale, which he then reproduced as a book and then installed

  • Alessandro Pessoli

    Alessandro Pessoli’s work is dominated by satirical images that are often sadistic, grotesque, and adolescent in their ability to induce nervous laughter. Pessoli has always given titles to his exhibitions which attempt to create a context for his often diverse works. His 1993 show “Maelstrom” consisted of the installation of some 1,900 drawings that served as a tempestuous diary of political, economic, and ideological breakdown.

    The title of Pessoli’s recent exhibition, “In Marcia” (On the march), immediately brought to mind fears of enforced discipline associated with the recent resurgence of

  • Monsieur Tête

    Presented in the center of the gallery this roomlike structure represents the collaborative effort of four artists: Piero Almeoni, Manuela Cirino, Maurizio Donzelli, and Roberto Marossi. For this singular work entitled Monsieur Tête, 1992, each of the four artists contributed one element that, when brought together, function individually like a wall flooring , or a column. The four artists have not exactly made one work together, it is, rather, one work composed of distinct individually authored parts. This spatial arrangement creates an ambiguous condition about the exact nature of the whole

  • Felix Gonzalez-Torres

    Felix Gonzalez-Torres’ works function well when the viewer is aware that they involve an implied invitation to participate; here, without explicit instructions, however, few viewers left the gallery sucking on candy or carrying off the sheets of paper, as the artist intended. A small C-print puzzle, Untitled (Lover’s Letter) (all works 1991), presents a fragmented manuscript from Oscar Wilde’s Salomé. The cropped text, in which Salomé describes the beauty of John the Baptist’s body, hair, mouth, and voice, is taken from her final declaration of love before his severed head. In this work,

  • Andrea Fogli

    For this exhibition, Andrea Fogli transformed the gallery into a booklike container. As soon as visitors entered and began reading, they changed from spectators to performers in a theatrical trap. Fogli painted the gallery’s large windows with a translucent yellow color, revealing transparent stenciled letters that formed a billboardlike text running along the building’s façade. Read along the grids created by the windows, the text altered the perception of the building’s scale and the light within the space, while prefacing the exhibition by introducing Fogli’s symbolic matrix.

    Above the entrance

  • Carlo Ferraris

    Within the context of the developing generation of Italian artists working with the inherited grammar of arte povera, Carlo Ferraris’ work depends on faulty action, or lapse, yet his parapraxes are not simply blunders; they represent serious mental acts motivated by an alternative sense that arises from two distinct or mutually opposing impulses. Whether intentionally presented as jokes or uttered as slips of the tongue, Ferraris’ works originates from this opposition. It is as if a preconscious train of thought—here the materials, techniques, and order of arte povera—is momentarily worked over

  • Claes Oldenburg

    Like commemorative representations or monuments, Claes Oldenburg’s sculptures and drawings for “The European Desk Top” are designed to reveal the significance of their surrounding world as well as their underlying allegorical structures. Olden-burg’s works function like agglutinations of signifiers for the historical, political, and economic meaning, as well as the use value of the place they have been designed to mark: here, a European gallery.

    The four painted, expanded polystyrene sculptures Oldenburg presents, entitled Sculpture in the Form of a Writing Quill and an Exploding Ink Bottle, on

  • Hidetoshi Nagasawa

    The three installations that Hidetoshi Nagasawa presented here, Lampo (Lightning), La stanza (The room), and Anello (Ring) (all from 1990), are animated by a number of dichotomies: suspension and weight, closure and extension, and the constructed and the natural.

    Lampo, the largest of the three works, consists of a zigzagging lightning bolt of wood, iron, and brass, ominously suspended from a single pole wedged between the gallery floor and ceiling. The massive cranelike assemblage both occupies and activates the exhibition space. Tethered with rectangular, ringlike constructions of unpainted

  • Nicola De Maria

    The paintings Nicola de Maria showed here can be divided into three distinct groups: those in which expansive fields of color and geometry are dominant; those in which the incision, the scratch or the scripted mark is emphasized; and those that partake of more traditional painterly depiction.

    Dominated by primary colors and simple configurations of circles, rectangles, triangles and starlike forms, De Maria’s seemingly childlike works suggest a quasi-theological notion of origin. The materials and the forms he calls into representation seem to proceed from an intentionally ahistorical conception

  • Elena Berriolo

    With her installation Bibita (Drink), 1990, Elena Berriolo called into representation a phallocentric, sexually imbalanced world that seems to confirm the notion that human curiosity, whatever its apparent forms, is actually directed exclusively toward either the sexual or the alimentary. In this simple, almost minimal installation, Berriolo developed an iconography of both the visible (here, all that is phallic) and the invisible (all that is transparent, or vaginal) to create a gender-specific, dichotomized imagery that is determined by sexual difference. By placing viewers in a real, physical

  • Vittorio Messina

    Vittorio Messina’s Grande Cella (Large cell, 1988) is a corridorlike sculptural work composed of white plaster blocks, corrugated steel sheeting, sealed cardboard boxes, and other prefabricated building materials. With this work, Messina creates three distinct, separate, almost domestic spaces; the sculpture is like an uninhabitable human shelter. The central space is the only one of the three that has been left partly open. But the pristine whiteness of the floor and walls and the harsh white-blue light seize the space from the sphere of domestic or even industrial architecture, and reanchor

  • Patrick Corillon

    The announcement of Patrick Corillon’s recent installation fictitiously introduced his works as “Le osservazioni di Geppetto C. . . . Botanico Milanese (1902–1960)" (The observations of Geppetto C. . . . Milanese botanist ([1902–1960], 1989). In doing so, it both provided a historical and narrative structure within which the works could be read, and aroused curiosity about the identity of this late botanist, who shared his name with the famous woodcarver from Carlo Collodi’s tale, “Pinocchio.” For this installation Corillon constructed 27 nearly identical flower-or plantlike forms—manipulations